“ Freedom ” ~ requires not assertion ~

Why do they speak

Of freedom,

As  to dispense

Be of their province,

By what measure

Need expense

Falsely imply,

Want approbate

Fashions certainty,

Of inferred liberty…  

 

Who, so presumes,

Can rule we’re free,

Or they’ve a right

To author a decree, 

On any moral stake

Officiate so declare,

Such be their dictate…

 

They, paltry thespians

Speak of freedom,

As though in some play

Autonomy be their say,

Or self-determination

Wouldst be in doubt…

 

Why do they postulate

With such hypocrisy,

As if their fallacies

Ought give me liberty,

Whilst I’m already free,

Requiring not assertion

Thus my freedom be!

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“ A Heritage ” ~ lost in translation ~

 

Born of a heritage

Said honourable,

Till left in a state

Of lost in translation,

Thus held in bondage

As easily manipulable,

For malicious consent

By malcontents

Of adverse adage,

Who’d force feed

The weak-kneed

Their ever-vile style

Of poutine national ism,

As this radical breed

Act out their roles,

That sews divisive seed

Of political looters,

To satisfy greed’s need

That exclude all others

Not of a heritage

Lost in translation!

 

“ Rebelhood ” ~ beings who see ~

 

The onus need be

On beings who see                        

We still have a say,

Thus now to rewind

A once rebel say,

Long left behind

Yet far from dead,

And anxiously thus

To rebel the stead

Of philistines heads

Hid in democracies

Efficiently blind,

Whose corrupt ways

Will see our decline,

And moving ahead

To entertain change

May be out of range,

While what we’d to live,

With our rebelhood mind

Will have run out of time!

 

“ Promises, Promises ” ~ promises broken ~

 

Promises offered

In recycled words,

Feeding the coffers

Favours man’s fate,

Ever so vacant

It borders absurd,

Promises given

Intended to serve

Man’s coveted state,

His hidden agenda

Naively taken

Tho much at stake,

Promises broken

Even a covenant

Absent of honour,

Integrally crippled,

And ever so empty

Save otiose drivel,

Promises, promises

Of dubious solve,

Or dark that evolves,

Having less measure

Than pie in the sky,

Sadly quite void

Of substance to fly!